by Greg Keyes
“Sir, I’ve got an incoming message—priority one, from Millennium Falcon.”
“Put it on.”
A few seconds later, Leia Organa Solo spoke over the channel.
“Wedge,” she said, “can the Mothma make the jump?”
“Yes. Where are you?”
“In the docking bay of the Golan Two. Wedge, I’ll explain later, but we’re okay here. We’ll cover you on your way out.”
“That’s good enough for me,” he said. “Commander, take us out of here.”
So long, Bilbringi, he thought. If I never see you again, that’ll still be two times too many.
“It was easy enough slipping into a berth, after we lost the skips,” Han explained. “What with all the shooting going on, I guess nobody was watching the dock.”
Jaina, her mother and father, and Wedge Antilles were sitting around a table in the refectory of the Alliance-commandeered Golan II Battle Station, currently occupying an orbit in an uninhabited system with what remained of Wedge’s ships and Admiral Gilad Pellaeon’s fleet. A few Yuuzhan Vong ships had followed their vector on the jump, and had paid dearly for it.
Now they were awaiting orders on how and where to disperse to. Prann’s people were in custody, waiting to be charged, and the near-system lookouts hadn’t spotted anything that looked like an imminent Yuuzhan Vong attack. The combined fleet remained on high alert, but there was time for a little relaxation.
Wedge poured another round of Corellian brandy.
“If this station had lips,” Wedge said, “I’d kiss it. Since it doesn’t—Colonel Solo, I’ll drink your health instead.”
“Hear, hear,” Leia said, and they all raised glasses.
“We really have Prann and his people to thank, in a way,” Jaina said, after the toast was over. “I mean, it’s not like they intended to help, but if it weren’t for them—”
“Yes, if it weren’t for them we would have all died,” Wedge said. “Even as it is, we lost way too much here. Pash Cracken, Judder Page …” He shook his head. “Old friends, young people I never knew.”
He looked up at them, and to Jaina he seemed suddenly old. “You’d think I would be used to it by now.”
“You don’t get used to it,” Han said.
From the corner of her eye, Jaina saw a flash of uniform, then an aging human face with an iron-gray mustache. She came quickly to attention.
“Grand Admiral Pellaeon, sir,” she said, saluting.
The others at the table came to their feet more slowly, Han slowest of all.
“Please,” Pellaeon said. “At ease, Colonel Solo. After what you’ve been through, you deserve a rest.”
He turned to Wedge and saluted stiffly. “General Antilles, I’ve come to offer my apologies. Captain Devis’s man found us, but we hadn’t had time to prepare the fleet for lightspeed before you arrived here. I should have joined you regardless, but when our communications failed—”
“You did exactly as I would have done, Grand Admiral,” Wedge said. “The battle plan was explicit. It simply didn’t take into account that all our communications might fail.”
“That’s very generous of you, General Antilles. I hope if I were in your situation I could be as forgiving.”
“Has anyone heard from Admiral Kre’fey?” Wedge asked.
Pellaeon nodded. “The couriers Captain Solo dispatched established communications between us, a bit belatedly. It seems, General, that the ships that initially jumped from Bilbringi when you arrived there encountered Kre’fey’s fleet. They engaged briefly.”
Jag? Jaina thought. Had she sent him into a firefight?
“Admiral,” she asked, “do you know if Colonel Fel reached Admiral Kre’fey?”
“I do not, Colonel Solo, but I shall make inquiries.”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Leia said. “We’ll find him.”
Wedge cleared his throat.
“Grand Admiral,” he began, “I wonder if you would care to join us for a drink. I believe the brandy is from your home province.”
Pellaeon hesitated. “I would very much enjoy that, General Antilles, but at the moment, duty calls. I—I was wondering if I could make an inquiry of my own. Captain Devis hasn’t returned to his command. Do you know his whereabouts?”
Han shuffled a bit. “I’m sorry, Admiral, he, ah—didn’t make it. He died helping to take down the interdictor.”
A strange expression passed over Pellaeon’s face like a cloud, and like a cloud it was quickly gone. But Jaina caught something in the Force, something unmistakable.
“I see,” Pellaeon said.
“He said to tell you he did what he thought was right.”
Pellaeon clasped his hands behind his back and looked at the floor. “Well, yes, that sounds like him,” he said. He glanced at Han. “He was a great admirer of yours, I believe, Captain Solo, despite the fact that in Imperial holos you are most often portrayed as something of a villain. Or perhaps that’s why he admired you.”
He clicked his heels together. “Ladies, gentlemen—until I have time for that drink.”
He saluted and left—almost in a hurry, it seemed.
“Villain?” Han muttered. “Maybe I need to see some of these holos.”
“That was a little odd, don’t you think?” Leia asked.
“Yeah,” Han drawled. “Devis was a good guy, sure, but—”
“Is the Grand Admiral married?” Jaina inquired.
“No,” Leia replied. “They say he’s never made time for it. Why do you ask?”
“Because,” Jaina said, remembering what she’d just felt in the Force, “I think Devis was his son.”
They were all silent for a moment, until Han raised his glass.
“To all of our sons and all of our daughters,” he said, “be they with us or beyond.”
EPILOGUE
Han was sitting on a shingle of a beach on Mon Calamari, silently enjoying the sunset with Leia, when Lando Calrissian came calling.
“They said I’d find you down here,” Lando said. “I didn’t believe it.”
“Well, you know,” Han said. “The wife likes this sort of thing.”
“Is that Jaina?” Lando asked.
Han glanced off in the distance, where Jaina and Jag were exploring the tide pools below an ancient reef uplift in rolled-up trousers and windbreakers. Jag had shown up with Kre’fey a few days before, and Jaina and he had been annoyingly inseparable since then.
“Yep. I convinced her to take a little leave,” he said. “What’s going on? Still charging military prices for your courier service?”
“Hey, I’m just doing my part,” Lando said. “I only charge enough to keep me from looking foolish. Anyway, my businesses won’t run without communications, either. And there’s plenty of competition—the Smugglers’ Alliance loves this sort of work. Appeals to the romantic in them.”
“Did you just come down here to fill me in on your good deeds, or is something up?”
“No, I’m just stopping in to say hello and good-bye before I head back out. But I thought you’d like to know some of my people caught one of the things that made such a wreck of the HoloNet.”
“Really,” Leia said. “What was it, exactly?”
“A dovin basal, basically, grafted onto some sort of living guidance system. They follow HoloNet signals to their source and then collapse the relays into singularities. The Vong must have released a million of them—they’re everywhere. Some of my people think they’re even multiplying.”
“Wonderful,” Leia said. “So even if we rebuild the relays, as soon as we use them one of these things will catch the scent, and good-bye relay.”
“That’s about the size of it. I’ve been building some compact new relays, though, and mounting them on retrofitted corvettes. If they’re mobile, it’ll be harder to find them.”
“Sounds expensive,” Han said.
“Yeah, but think how useful one of those would have been at Bilbringi.”
&
nbsp; “Good point. I guess the military will give you a good price for those, too.”
Calrissian smiled. “Eventually. I’m going to give them the first few as samples. I have to think about the future, after all. Well, I’ll leave you two alone, now. Places to be, and all that.”
“Thanks for stopping by.” Leia said. “It’s always good to see you.”
“I’m sure it won’t be long before we see each other again,” Lando replied.
They had finished watching the sunset and were walking back to the apartment when Leia suddenly stumbled. Han caught her.
“Hey,” he said, “you know you don’t have to act all clumsy to get my attention.” But then he felt how tense she was. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Jacen, and Luke—and Tahiri, they—”
“Are they all right?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “It’s not like my contact with them has been all that strong, but I felt them, especially Luke and Jacen. Now it’s like—they’re gone.”
Han suddenly felt very cold.
“You mean dead?”
“No, not like that. I would know it if they died—I know I would.”
“Then I’m sure they’re fine,” Han said, uncertain whether he believed that or not.
“Yes,” Leia echoed. “I’m sure they are.”
Tahiri looked up at the heavens and shivered straight to her bones.
No world should have hyperspace for a sky.
After the jump, Jade Shadow’s instruments had gone strange, and Mara had settled the ship in a protected ravine until they could sort things out. No telling what would happen to the atmosphere when they reverted.
If they reverted.
She drew her attention back to the conversation.
“Jacen and I had both sensed you for some time,” Master Skywalker was saying. “But fitfully, and we couldn’t get a sense of where. Sekot sensed something, too, but couldn’t find your ship—it was hidden somehow.”
“We came in a Sekotan ship,” Tahiri said.
“With a few Yuuzhan Vong spare parts,” Corran put in.
“That might explain it,” Luke said.
“It certainly explains it,” a new voice said.
They all turned, and Tahiri gasped. Nen Yim was standing there, whole, alive.
“Nen Yim!” she said.
Nen Yim shook her head sadly. “No. This one has passed on. I found her attached to my memory—her, and much information concerning her technology—and the ship that brought you here. The modifications she made to the ship are—interesting. I may experiment with the design, should we survive this.”
“Tahiri,” Jacen said, “this is Sekot, the living intelligence of the planet.”
“I—” What did one say to a world? “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“And I you, Tahiri,” Sekot said gravely.
“Should we survive?” Luke asked. “What happened, exactly?”
“I was infected with a virus designed to corrupt the information-transfer system that links my consciousness to the hyperdrive. I believe the intended result was a core explosion. I managed to prevent that, but was unable to stop our jump to hyperspace. I have excised the virus and am regaining control as we speak, but it is difficult.”
“Do you have any idea of our destination?”
“None,” Sekot said. “The jump was blind. Eventually we will pass close enough to a gravity well to be pulled out.”
“Our friends in orbit,” Luke asked. “Do you know what happened to them?”
“They did not make the jump with us,” she replied. “Whether they were destroyed, left behind, or pulled off onto another vector, I cannot say.”
“I’m sorry,” Tahiri sighed.
“Sorry?” Luke asked.
“Yes. I brought him here. I argued for it, and now everything’s ruined.”
“Tahiri, you weren’t the only one who thought it was a good idea,” Corran said. “Everything always looks clearer in hindsight.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “You came here for all the right reasons—to end the war, to somehow find common ground between us and the Yuuzhan Vong. I thought we could handle the situation. I was wrong.”
The figure that resembled Nen Yim smiled ruefully. “I will not say I am happy to find myself sabotaged and in danger of destruction, and yet what you brought with you—the shaper and her knowledge—are of great importance. I do not entirely understand, and will not speak of it now, but I suspect the questions raised are the most important questions I shall ever have to ask myself. Now—if you will excuse me, I must return my full attentions to preserving us all through what is to come. I suggest you find sturdy shelter in the caves.”
“Thank you,” Luke told her, “and may the Force be with you.”
“More than ever,” Sekot said, “I believe that it is.”
And on that enigmatic note, the image of Nen Yim vanished.
Soon after, the stars returned, spangled on a night sky.
The wind began.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born in Meridian, MS, in 1963, GREG KEYES spent his early years roaming the forests of his native state and the red rock cliffs of the Navajo Indian reservation in Arizona. He earned his B.A. in anthropology from Mississippi State University and a master’s degree from the University of Georgia, where he did course work for a Ph.D. He lives in Savannah, GA, where, in addition to full-time writing, he enjoys cooking, fencing, the company of his family and friends and lazy Savannah nights. Greg is the author of The Waterborn, The Blackgod, the Babylon 5 Psi Corps trilogy, the Age of Unreason tetrology (for which he won the prestigious “Le Grand Prix de l’Imaginaire” award), and three New York Times bestselling Star Wars novels in the New Jedi Order series.
ALSO BY GREG KEYES
THE KINGDOMS OF THORN AND BONE
The Born Queen
The Blood Knight
The Charnel Prince
The Briar King
STAR WARS: THE NEW JEDI ORDER
Star Wars: The New Jedi Order:
Edge of Victory III: The Final Prophecy
Star Wars: The New Jedi Order:
Edge of Victory I: Conquest
Star Wars: The New Jedi Order:
Edge of Victory II: Rebirth
STAR WARS—The Expanded Universe
You saw the movies. You watched the cartoon series, or maybe played some of the video games. But did you know …
In The Empire Strikes Back, Princess Leia Organa said to Han Solo, “I love you.” Han said, “I know.” But did you know that they actually got married? And had three Jedi children: the twins, Jacen and Jaina, and a younger son, Anakin?
Luke Skywalker was trained as a Jedi by Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda. But did you know that, years later, he went on to revive the Jedi Order and its commitment to defending the galaxy from evil and injustice?
Obi-Wan said to Luke, “For over a thousand generations, the Jedi Knights were the guardians of peace and justice in the Old Republic. Before the dark times. Before the Empire.” Did you know that over those millennia, legendary Jedi and infamous Sith Lords were adding their names to the annals of Republic history?
Yoda explained that the dreaded Sith tend to come in twos: “Always two, there are. No more, no less. A Master, and an apprentice.” But did you know that the Sith didn’t always exist in pairs? That at one time in the ancient Republic there were as many Sith as Jedi, until a Sith Lord named Darth Bane was the lone survivor of a great Sith war and created the “Rule of Two”?
All this and much, much more is brought to life in the many novels and comics of the Star Wars expanded universe. You’ve seen the movies and watched the cartoon. Now venture out into the wider worlds of Star Wars!
Turn the page or jump to the timeline of Star Wars novels to learn more.
ONE
Selvaris, faintly green against a sweep of white-hot stars, and with only a tiny moon for companionship, looked like the loneliest of planets. Almost five years into a war that
had seen the annihilation of peaceful worlds, the disruption of major hyperlanes, the fall and occupation of Coruscant itself, the fact that such a backwater place could rise to sudden significance was perhaps the clearest measure of the frightful shadow the Yuuzhan Vong had cast across the galaxy.
Immediate evidence of that significance was a prisoner-of-war compound that had been hollowed from the dense coastal jungle of Selvaris’s modest southern continent. The compound of wooden detention buildings and organic, hive-like structures known as grashals was enclosed by yorik-coral walls and watchtowers that might have been thrust from the planet’s aquamarine sea, or left exposed by a freakishly low tide. Beyond the tall scabrous perimeter, where the vegetation had been leveled or reduced to ash by plasma weapons, rigid blades of knee-high grass poked from the sandy soil, extending all the way to the vibrant green palisade that was the tree line. Whipped by a persistent salty wind, the fanlike leaves of the tallest trees flapped and snapped like war banners.
Standing between the prison camp and a brackish estuary that meandered finally to the sea, the jungle combined indigenous growth with exotic species bioengineered by the Yuuzhan Vong and soon to become dominant on Selvaris, as had already happened on countless other worlds.
Two charred yorik-trema landing craft, not yet fully healed from recent deep-space engagements with the enemy, sat in the spacious prison yard. Shuffling past them came a group of humans, bald-domed Bith, and thick-horned Gotals, carrying three corpses wrapped in cloth.
His back pressed to one of the coralcraft, a Yuuzhan Vong guard watched the prisoners struggle with the dead.
“Be quick about it,” he ordered. “The maw luur doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
The camp’s prisoners had argued vehemently to be allowed to dispose of bodies according to the customs of the deceased, but graves or funeral pyres had been expressly forbidden by order of the Yuuzhan Vong priests who officiated at the nearby temple. Their ruling was that all organics had to be recycled. The dead could either be left to Selvaris’s ample and voracious flocks of carrion eaters, or be fed to the Yuuzhan Vong biot known as a maw luur, which some of the more well-traveled prisoners characterized as a mating of trash compactor and Sarlacc.